CHAPTER 21
During that terrible interval which followed an eternity of time passedslowly through the little cabin on the Gray Loon--that eternity whichlies somewhere between life and death and which is sometimes meted outto a human life in seconds instead of years.
In those seconds Pierrot did not move from where he stood in thedoorway. McTaggart, encumbered with the weight in his arms, and staringat Pierrot, did not move. But the Willow's eyes were opening. And atthe same moment a convulsive quiver ran through the body of Baree,where he lay near the wall. There was not the sound of a breath. Andthen, in that silence, a great gasping sob came from Nepeese.
Then Pierrot stirred to life. Like McTaggart, he had left his coat andmittens outside. He spoke, and his voice was not like Pierrot's. It wasa strange voice.
"The great God has sent me back in time, m'sieu," he said. "I, too,traveled by way of the east, and saw your trail where it turned thisway."
No, that was not like Pierrot's voice! A chill ran through McTaggartnow, and slowly he let go of Nepeese. She fell to the floor. Slowly hestraightened.
"Is it not true, m'sieu?" said Pierrot again. "I have come in time?"
What power was it--what great fear, perhaps, that made McTaggart nodhis head, that made his thick lips form huskily the words, "Yes--intime." And yet it was not fear. It was something greater, somethingmore all-powerful than that. And Pierrot said, in that same strangevoice:
"I thank the great God!"
The eyes of madman met the eyes of madman now. Between them was death.Both saw it. Both thought that they saw the direction in which its bonyfinger pointed. Both were certain. McTaggart's hand did not go to thepistol in his holster, and Pierrot did not touch the knife in his belt.When they came together, it was throat to throat--two beasts now,instead of one, for Pierrot had in him the fury and strength of thewolf, the cat, and the panther.
McTaggart was the bigger and heavier man, a giant in strength; yet inthe face of Pierrot's fury he lurched back over the table and went downwith a crash. Many times in his life he had fought, but he had neverfelt a grip at his throat like the grip of Pierrot's hands. They almostcrushed the life from him at once. His neck snapped--a little more, andit would have broken. He struck out blindly, and twisted himself tothrow off the weight of the half-breed's body. But Pierrot was fastenedthere, as Sekoosew the ermine had fastened itself at the jugular of thepartridge, and Bush McTaggart's jaws slowly swung open, and his facebegan to turn from red to purple.
Cold air rushing through the door, Pierrot's voice and the sound ofbattle roused Nepeese quickly to consciousness and the power to raiseherself from the floor. She had fallen near Baree, and as she liftedher head, her eyes rested for a moment on the dog before they went tothe fighting men. Baree was alive! His body was twitching; his eyeswere open. He made an effort to raise his head as she was looking athim.
Then she dragged herself to her knees and turned to the men, andPierrot, even in the blood-red fury of his desire to kill, must haveheard the sharp cry of joy that came from her when she saw that it wasthe factor from Lac Bain who was underneath. With a tremendous effortshe staggered to her feet, and for a few moments she stood swayingunsteadily as her brain and her body readjusted themselves. Even as shelooked down upon the blackening face from which Pierrot's fingers werechoking the life, Bush McTaggart's hand was groping blindly for hispistol. He found it. Unseen by Pierrot, he dragged it from its holster.It was one of the black devils of chance that favored him again, for inhis excitement he had not snapped the safety shut after shooting Baree.Now he had only strength left to pull the trigger. Twice his forefingerclosed. Twice there came deadened explosion close to Pierrot's body.
In Pierrot's face Nepeese saw what had happened. Her heart died in herbreast as she looked upon the swift and terrible change wrought bysudden death. Slowly Pierrot straightened. His eyes were wide for amoment--wide and staring. He made no sound. She could not see his lipsmove. And then he fell toward her, so that McTaggart's body was free.Blindly and with an agony that gave no evidence in cry or word sheflung herself down beside her father. He was dead.
How long Nepeese lay there, how long she waited for Pierrot to move, toopen his eyes, to breathe, she would never know. In that time McTaggartrose to his feet and stood leaning against the wall, the pistol in hishand, his brain clearing itself as he saw his final triumph. His workdid not frighten him. Even in that tragic moment as he stood againstthe wall, his defense--if it ever came to a defense--framed itself inhis mind. Pierrot had murderously assaulted him--without cause. Inself-defense he had killed him. Was he not the Factor of Lac Bain?Would not the company and the law believe his word before that of thisgirl? His brain leaped with the old exultation. It would never come tothat--to a betrayal of this struggle and death in the cabin--after hehad finished with her! She would not be known for all time as La BeteNoir. No, they would bury Pierrot, and she would return to Lac Bainwith him. If she had been helpless before, she was ten times morehelpless now. She would never tell of what had happened in the cabin.
He forgot the presence of death as he looked at her, bowed over herfather so that her hair covered him like a silken-shroud. He replacedthe pistol in its holster and drew a deep breath into his lungs. He wasstill a little unsteady on his feet, but his face was again the face ofa devil. He took a step, and it was then there came a sound to rousethe girl. In the shadow of the farther wall Baree had struggled to hishaunches, and now he growled.
Slowly Nepeese lifted her head. A power which she could not resist drewher eyes up until she was looking into the face of Bush McTaggart. Shehad almost lost consciousness of his presence. Her senses were cold anddeadened--it was as if her own heart had stopped beating along withPierrot's. What she saw in the factor's face dragged her out of thenumbness of her grief back into the shadow of her own peril. He wasstanding over her. In his face there was no pity, nothing of horror atwhat he had done--only an insane exultation as he looked--not atPierrot's dead body, but at her. He put out a hand, and it rested onher head. She felt his thick fingers crumpling her hair, and his eyesblazed like embers of fire behind watery films. She struggled to rise,but with his hands at her hair he held her down.
"Great God!" she breathed.
She uttered no other words, no plea for mercy, no other sound but adry, hopeless sob. In that moment neither of them heard or saw Baree.Twice in crossing the cabin his hindquarters had sagged to the floor.Now he was close to McTaggart. He wanted to give a single lunge to theman-brute's back and snap his thick neck as he would have broken acaribou bone. But he had no strength. He was still partially paralyzedfrom his foreshoulder back. But his jaws were like iron, and theyclosed savagely on McTaggart's leg.
With a yell of pain the factor released his hold on the Willow, and shestaggered to her feet. For a precious half-minute she was free, and asthe factor kicked and struck to loose Baree's hold, she ran to thecabin door and out into the day. The cold air struck her face. Itfilled her lungs with new strength; and without thought of where hopemight lie she ran through the snow into the forest.
McTaggart appeared at the door just in time to see her disappear. Hisleg was torn where Baree had fastened his fangs, but he felt no pain ashe ran in pursuit of the girl. She could not go far. An exultant cry,inhuman as the cry of a beast, came in a great breath from his gapingmouth as he saw that she was staggering weakly as she fled. He washalfway to the edge of the forest when Baree dragged himself over thethreshold. His jaws were bleeding where McTaggart had kicked him againand again before his fangs gave way. Halfway between his ears was aseared spot, as if a red-hot poker had been laid there for an instant.This was where McTaggart's bullet had gone. A quarter of an inchdeeper, and it would have meant death. As it was, it had been like theblow of a heavy club, paralyzing his senses and sending him limp andunconscious against the wall. He could move on his feet now withoutfalling, and slowly he followed in the tracks of the man and the girl.
As she ran, Nepeese's mind became all at once cl
ear and reasoning. Sheturned into the narrow trail over which McTaggart had followed her oncebefore, but just before reaching the chasm, she swung sharply to theright. She could see McTaggart. He was not running fast, but wasgaining steadily, as if enjoying the sight of her helplessness, as hehad enjoyed it in another way on that other day. Two hundred yardsbelow the deep pool into which she had pushed the factor--just beyondthe shallows out of which he had dragged himself to safety--was thebeginning of Blue Feather's Gorge. An appalling thing was shapingitself in her mind as she ran to it--a thing that with each gaspingbreath she drew became more and more a great and glorious hope. At lastshe reached it and looked down. And as she looked, there whispered upout of her soul and trembled on her lips the swan song of her mother'speople.
Our fathers--come! Come from out of the valley. Guide us--for today wedie, And the winds whisper of death!
She had raised her arms. Against the white wilderness beyond the chasmshe stood tall and slim. Fifty yards behind her the factor from LacBain stopped suddenly in his tracks. "Ah," he mumbled. "Is she notwonderful!" And behind McTaggart, coming faster and faster, was Baree.
Again the Willow looked down. She was at the edge, for she had no fearin this hour. Many times she had clung to Pierrot's hand as she lookedover. Down there no one could fall and live. Fifty feet below her thewater which never froze was smashing itself into froth among the rocks.It was deep and black and terrible, for between the narrow rock wallsthe sun did not reach it. The roar of it filled the Willow's ears.
She turned and faced McTaggart.
Even then he did not guess, but came toward her again, his armsstretched out ahead of him. Fifty yards! It was not much, andshortening swiftly.
Once more the Willow's lips moved. After all, it is the mother soulthat gives us faith to meet eternity--and it was to the spirit of hermother that the Willow called in the hour of death. With the call onher lips she plunged into the abyss, her wind-whipped hair clinging toher in a glistening shroud.